


Make You A Man

by Butterfly



Series: Scenes from a Resurrection Story [6]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fix-it fic, Gen, Quentin Coldwater/Alice Quinn (mentioned) - Freeform, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh (mentioned) - Freeform, Quentin Coldwater/Margo Hanson (mentioned/minor), i'm not going to tag any relationships in the relationships tag until both parties are present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 23:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18670948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly/pseuds/Butterfly
Summary: Alice endures an artistic critique.





	Make You A Man

**Author's Note:**

> Vague allusions to depression and suicide but nothing as explicit as previous scenes in the series. Lots of talk about a man's naked body, so I slotted it under 'mature' for that.

“His chest wasn't that hairy,” Margo said. Alice could hear her heels clicking against the counter as she kicked her feet. “I've seen _countless_ naked men, Quinn, and our boy does not have a hairy fucking chest. There's should be, like, I don't know. A light sprinkling, but he's not a fucking otter.”

Alice rubbed at her temples, then started the next sequence.

“You still don't have his dick right,” Eliot said, and she could hear his wine sloshing around as he undoubtably made an extravagant hand gesture. “You really should just let me make a couple of adjustments. Even when he's soft, you should be able to see the slight bulge of that vein there, and it's just not visible in your work, sweetheart.”

Alice flexed her fingers and concentrated on her tuts, doing her best to block out the background noise.

Failing miserably.

“You know, I still think it wouldn't be a bad idea to give him a Prince Albert while he's out,” Margo said, thoughtfully. “I mean, think about it. Could be fun, for whoever he ends up going with. Guys with decorated dicks are very _in_ this year.”

“Ugh, no, Bambi, it wouldn't fit with his whole aesthetic.”

“ _What_ aesthetic? He thinks a badly-fitting blazer is high fashion.” Margo sighed. “I know you're drunk in love, honey, but please tell me you haven't degraded far enough that the way Q dresses doesn't cause you physical pain sometimes.”

“I mean, when I feel that way, I just imagine him naked,” Eliot said, with an entirely different kind of sigh. “Speaking of, do you think his balls are too small? I think they might be a little smaller than I remember.”

She was in hell. She was in literal hell. She was in literal hell where she was listening to other people talk about her boyfriend's penis and reproductive organs.

Her maybe-boyfriend.

Her probably-not-boyfriend.

“Huh. Could be,” Margo said. “I mean. I think you sucked on them for a while during- so, there's that. But maybe a little small. You know, I think the knees are wrong.”

“Knees just always look wrong,” Eliot said. “Hmm, I do remember there being a mole on his inner thigh that I can't see from here.” Alice heard him getting up and she could feel him looming over her as he looked. “Oh, there it is.” Satisfied, presumably, he wandered off again and she could hear him pouring himself more wine.

She wished _she_ could have some wine but, regrettably, she needed to be sober for this.

Honestly, she was starting to think it would have been easier if Margo and Eliot hadn't decided to befriend her, because they were a _lot_ more frank with each other than she'd ever been with anyone in her life.

“We should call Q,” Eliot said, not for the first time. He was over by Margo now – Alice could hear him boosting himself up on the counter to sit with her. “Now that PennyForty's on the run with him, he'll actually be there to hear us.”

“You _really_ want your first conversation with Q post-possession to be with Penny listening in?” Margo countered, just like she had last time. “Come on, El, try to have a little patience.”

“Patience is not a virtue of mine, dearest Bambi.”

“You sure about that? Seems like it is when it comes to Q.” Margo's hand patted softly against fabric. Eliot's coat or his pants. “Oh, oh shit, El! I'm buzzing!” Alice almost turned to look but caught herself at the last moment, forcing herself to stay on task and keep at her spellwork. She was not going to screw this up now, not when she was almost done.

There were two hard clacks – Margo jumping down from the counter in those ridiculous skyscraper heels she was wearing today – and a slap of her hand against the counter. “Oh, I am going to be so disappointed if we hear Forty's voice coming from this thing.”

But it wasn't Penny – it was Q. And he sounded... god it had been so long since Alice had heard him sound like this, bubbly and excited.

“Margo! You won't believe it! We just held off a siege of guards and snuck out a back entrance and we're in some strange secret part of the Underworld that Penny says isn't even on the maps!”

“Seriously, Coldwater?” Penny sounded... so frazzled that it made Alice want to giggle. “Just tell her the fucking update.”

“Right, so you have to do the reattachment spell under the light of two moons. Um, three would be better, really the more moons the better, but _at least_ two. I think I took a guy's arm off back there which was kinda awesome, but Penny says it should be okay. It's just a soul-arm, so I guess it'll re-grow?”

“ _Focus_ , Coldwater! Do I have to do everything?”

“Um, yeah. Margo? El's okay, right? I mean. I saw him at the... at the memorial. But he's okay? Tell him. Can you tell him. Tell him I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I was. I was really fucking shut off when I died? I wasn't having many feelings anymore.”

“Unfortunately, not a problem we still have,” Penny muttered in the background.

“Right! I have all the fucking feelings again, Margo! I'm happy and angry and- and! Everything! So I just wan-”

His voice cut off mid-word. God, he'd been- he'd sounded years younger than the last time they'd talked. And she couldn't say anything back because if she stopped the tuts now, she would have to restart from scratch and they did _not_ have that kind of time.

“Hey baby Q,” Margo said, her voice full of that syrupy softness that still sounded unnatural to Alice. “El's just fine. He's here with me.”

“ _Q_ ,” Eliot said that one syllable like it contained an entire library's worth of meaning. “I have- we have so much to talk about. Too much to try to get into now, especially if- anyway, I wanna see your face when- _So_ , to get to business. We're almost done with the new body; Alice is working on it right now or she'd be talking to you, too. There's- sorry I'm such a fucking mess. I didn't expect to get to talk to you today. Shit, I'm fucking _useless_... Bambi, help me out here?”

“Hey, we love you so fucking much and we're gonna hug you for ten thousand years once you get back,” Margo said. She hesitated a moment, then added, “And what do we say to the god of death, honey? Not today, you sadistic fucker. So, go ahead and spit in Hades' face on your way out the door.”

“Yeah, that's, that's better. I-uh. I second all that.”

Margo sighed heavily.

“And we're done; card's gone gray. Probably can't risk calling back again, if the guards are still chasing them.”

“For the best,” Eliot said, sounding _exhausted_. “I was... wow, all those words I practiced flew out of my head the second I heard his voice. Do I have goosebumps, Bambi? I feel like I do.”

There was a second's pause, and then-

“Shit, El, you do. Baby, you've got it _so bad_ for that boy,” Margo was giggling, and Alice could recognize that sound in Margo's voice now, a sort of fond mockery that Alice had never realized hid a wellspring of affection behind the teasing. Competition doesn't have to mean enemies, she reminded herself. She would get to keep Margo and Eliot as friends, no matter what happened with Q.

She finished off the last tut, and there it was – the body shivered and quaked and breathed. It was ready now, an empty but living vessel. She felt herself start to collapse from the effort of the work, but there were strong arms around her, holding her up.

“I'm gonna pass out now, okay?” she told Eliot, gripping his arm with her hand as tightly as she could manage.

She vaguely felt herself being swooped up into his arms as everything faded away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "The Rocky Horror Picture Show".


End file.
